


Like Clockwork

by bshiat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 20:11:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17066312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bshiat/pseuds/bshiat
Summary: John thinks his actions have no pattern to them, that he's different. Unpredictable. Rodney doesn't quite agree.





	Like Clockwork

If there’s one thing you can count on in the military, it’s that it favors predictability. Rules. Order. Not just because it literally saves lives to not run around like headless chicken, but because what it is in the end, is a gigantic organization with millions of moving pieces. Anarchy isn’t what you want.

That said, since Zero Week, John had always been the type to push the box as much as he could. He wouldn’t break it, though, not unless he saw no other way. The  _ only  _ time he had outright refused to follow an order had gotten him a black mark.

He’d do small things instead. Keep his hair a little longer than most, but still within regulation. Slouch when he wasn’t in a military situation, but stand up straighter than anybody else the second the situation called for it. He might’ve also had a couple issues not shutting up, which would explain why he’d never been a CO’s favorite, but that wasn’t really a regulation thing now, was it? Teachers at school had always had a love-hate relationship with him too.

Yes, he’d push and stretch the box, but not break it.  _ Still  _ though, he’d thought that he wasn’t “just another grunt” as McKay would’ve put it, despite John being Air Force. John didn’t think marines were all alike either. Sure, they all kept in shape and followed rules - some to a scary extent - but they were their own people. You’d notice if you cared to look. He felt guilty about it, but for himself, he thought one wouldn’t even  _ need  _ to look for it. That it was  _ obvious  _ that Lt. Col. John Sheppard was different.

God, he felt like an ass just thinking of it like that. Sounded so disrespectful to his men. But wasn’t it true? A little? Didn’t he defy at least a couple expectations one might have about a military officer?

Well, according to McKay, apparently not.

John’s hand froze mid-air, just short of picking up his jacket from Rodney’s -  _ McKay’s _ \- chair. “What?” he asked, turning towards the bed.

“Yes, yes,” McKay said, repeating himself, clearly not having heard John. He waved a dismissive hand as his left hand kept typing on the keyboard. “See you in three weeks.”

“I wasn’t… I was just telling you I had a meeting with Lorne tomorrow morning. What’s in three weeks?” John said, stumbling over his words a little. McKay wasn’t suggesting… John wasn’t that predictable, was he?

McKay actually paused his typing, and lifted his head with a sigh. “Nothing. See you later Sheppard.”

John let his arm drop, and took a step towards the bed. “What is it?” he asked, wanting him to lie, because of course he’d figured it out, before even John had. Was it really so routine, so predictable that Rodney could pin it to the day?

Rodney - McKay, McKay, John kept reminding himself - looked between his laptop screen and John a few times, frowning. “Must we? Because I think I figured out a way to make the report cataloguing code more efficient and I know it sounds small but I  _ hate  _ it when something I’ve done isn’t perfect, and--”

“No,” John said, taking the out McKay was giving him. “See you later.”

As he left the room, though, he didn’t feel as relieved as he thought he would’ve. Three weeks, huh? Is that what he did? He tried to think back at the days spent away from McKay’s room and he’d never seen a pattern to it, but McKay obviously had. Maybe the three weeks was just a coincidence, he decided. After all, with unpredictable, multi-day missions and the twenty eight hour days, anybody could get confused about time here.

He pushed down his own quick calculations, how easily they came to him, and how easily he knew they’d come to Rodney McKay.

He wasn’t alone in a room with Rodney, even off-world, for the next four weeks. He told himself it wasn’t  _ just  _ to mess with the three week estimation.

~

“Just about done,” Rodney said absentmindedly, shutting down one of the tablets on the floor, and propping up another on the wall of the hut they’d been given to sleep in.

“Good. Anything interesting?” John asked, glancing at the two separate beds. No excuse to sleep together.

“Not yet,” Rodney said with a disappointed frown. “But science isn’t often all quick action, Major. Sometimes we wait to find something out. Although I have to admit, here in Pegasus, the speed at which things develop has left me quite spoiled. Even if there’re mundane tasks that take weeks, well… I have minions for that. Need to use those of inferior intellect for something, don’t I?” He stretched as he got up, and threw a small bag onto the bed closer to him. “You need a shower?” he asked John.

Normally, thinking of showers and McKay would’ve helped John’s erection if anything, but now John felt it wilting. McKay knew why John was here. Why he wasn’t outside standing guard, or having dinner with the rest of the village and Ronon and Teyla. John couldn’t see through the black little bag, but he could guess what was in it. A condom, maybe two, and lube. Come to think of it, McKay had always been prepared in their previous encounters, at least after the first time. John remembered accusing him of having been a boy scout, once.

“I just wanted to check how you were doing,” John told the wall behind Rodney. “Think I’ll go back. Have some mead, or something.”

It took about two seconds for Rodney to catch on. “Oh for-- Really, Major?”

“And stop calling me Major. It’s Colonel.” His own voice was gruff to his ears, but John couldn’t bring himself to sound casual.

“It’s been about a  _ day,”  _ McKay said, rolling his eyes. “Forgive me for having trouble shaking off years of habit.” He looked at the bag, then at John. “What crawled up your ass, anyway? You seemed happy when I saw you an hour ago. What, an alien offended you? Insulted your frankly ridiculous hair?”

John  _ had  _ been happy, an hour ago. A few  _ minutes  _ ago. He’d thought… He’d thought he’d get laid. Now both the happiness and the erection were gone. Taking a deep breath, he decided to be honest. He owed his friend that.

“I don’t like that you just assumed, Rodney. I barely walked in, and you…”

“You know, Sheppard, for most people that’s a  _ good  _ thing. I had this one boyfriend who actually loved it when I went much further. Even the day he broke up with me he spoke of it fondly, saying he’d miss coming home to be greeted by a naked Rodney on all fours with a plug, just waiting for him.” He looked away wistfully, then shook his head as if taking himself out of a daydream. John didn’t say anything, shocked into silence. “I know, hard to believe, isn’t it? No, I didn’t actually memorize when he would come home, good lord, I have enough things to remember in my  _ own  _ life. But I set a program to send me an e-mail when he locked his office - he had an electronic lock, you see, and--”

John had to cut him off. “Any reason you’re telling me about your ex, McKay?” he asked, and he wanted to pat himself on the back for not uttering words he would regret. Like “slut” or “wanton” or “Is that what you want from me?”

“Right. Well. Anyway, my point is that not everybody would hate sex on demand.”

“I don’t…” John sighed, fighting back the urge to run his hand through his hair. “I don’t hate ‘sex on demand’. I just don’t want to  _ be  _ the one being… Demanded.”

“You’re not!” McKay actually chuckled. “You think if I could fuck you whenever I wanted, we’d be having this conversation? First of all, both our asses would be so sore we’d be on sick leave, and second--”

“Oh, so now I’m not satisfying Mr. Rodney Sexbot McKay? I’m not a gigolo, Rodney. Jesus.”

“It’s Doctor. You know it’s Doctor.”

“Like you know that it’s Colonel.”

“I was a Doctor already when we met! What the hell is your problem? Don’t want sex? Fine. I’ll take care of myself like usual. Get out of here, go have your mead, or I don’t know, take out a camera if you feel like taping it.” He took his pants and underwear off in one motion, and sat on the bed, resting his back on the wall and spreading his legs as he took his cock in hand.

“How’re you hard when we’re fighting?” John asked, no anger in his voice. Honestly, he was mostly impressed.

“If I couldn’t multitask, I wouldn’t be here,” McKay said with a little shrug. “You think I’d  _ ever  _ have an erection if any non-sexual thought killed my boner? At any given time I’m thinking about at least two problems, one of which is almost always Atlantis related these days. Did you know that Zelenka thinks botany could be spending a whole percent less energy if we reconfigure the crystal paths?” All throughout the monologue, he’d been stroking his cock languidly, clearly not concentrating on it. Nevertheless, a tiny bit of precum leaked out of his cock. John was mesmerised.

“I…” John started, but didn’t know what to say. So he just kept staring at Rodney’s cock, red and warm - he wasn’t touching it but he  _ knew  _ and god, maybe he  _ could  _ get hard while they were fighting because his boxers were suddenly a little uncomfortable.

“You sure you don’t want to join?” McKay asked knowingly, and thrust his hips just a little before settling back down, the bastard. Well, not his fault, John supposed, that it was so easy to turn John on. At least for Rodney…

“If you tell me one thing.”

“Tell you what?”

“What was the three week comment about? What you said last month?”

Rodney’s hand slowed down even further, then settled on his thigh. He gave his lips a quick lick - not a sexual one, despite the twitch in John’s pants - and took a deep breath. “I’ve done this before, Sheppard. Not to say that you’re not special because come on,  _ look  _ at you… But I’ve… I’ve been contracted by the military - by  _ multiple  _ militaries - for years now. I know how it works.”

John doesn’t bother contradicting him, saying that being stationed in another  _ galaxy  _ can’t possibly be like any other assignment. “And how does it work?” He looked away, unable to keep staring.

“There’re a few options. The out and proud who sneaks around only to not get fired. Those guys are out to their families and friends, hiding’s just a hassle they put up with for the love of their country or flying or whatever their reason for being military is. They think the American rules are as backwards as I do. They’re fun, but none of them want a committed relationship before retirement because they put the job first. There’s the closeted ones who’d be closeted no matter  _ what  _ their profession. Religion, family drama, something mind numbingly stupid like that. That’s where you have the quickies in closets - pardon the pun - rough sex in bathrooms, shit like that. They’re mortified at what they’ve done the second they come. Then there’s people like you, who’re in-between. They won’t make homophobic remarks, they’re usually liberal, but they say things like ‘well it’s OK to be gay, I just happen not to be’. The main thread connecting them is exactly what you do: If something  _ feels  _ too serious, they step back and isolate themselves, trying to shake off any attachment because that way lays awkward conversations and dishonorable discharge. They think it’s all or nothing, they can’t hide the way the first type can.”

When Rodney paused to take a deep breath, John noticed that Rodney hadn’t properly breathed for the last few minutes as he talked.  _ Doesn’t he get thirsty?  _ John wondered randomly, never having had experience with such a long monologue himself. Thinking about mundane things like that helped him avoid thinking about what Rodney’d actually  _ said. _

“It’s like emotional clockwork,” Rodney continued. “Everytime we sleep more than two nights in a row together, including off-world, or if we have a near-death experience after which we sleep in the same room, you go away. For three weeks, plus minus two days. I figure that’s how long you think it takes to prove that you don’t  _ have  _ to do it.”

John looked up to see that Rodney wasn’t playing with himself anymore. In fact he’d pulled his pants up while talking. 

“I’m that predictable?”

“Don’t be offended, Sheppard. My brain looks for patterns the way none other does. Genius, remember? I see a lot of connections that other people don’t.”

“Somehow I think your genius doesn’t extend to human relationships.”

Rodney didn’t skip a beat. “True. But I understand time. Math. Path calculation. Cause and effect. I couldn’t tell you why a random person is insulted when they don’t get a call from their girlfriend or something, but I can tell you the patterns people around me follow. That Zelenka’s always a bit slow on Tuesdays because he likes to hang around until that blond botanist lady stops by for the weekly check of the lab plants. That Elizabeth subconsciously - or maybe on purpose, who knows - always sits at an angle that allows her to check you out. That if you feel you’re enjoying being with me a bit too much, you put distance between our bodies, quite literally, for three weeks.” His eyebrows furrowed for a moment. “Well, one time it was a single week, but I’d gotten kidnapped, I think you can be forgiven for breaking the pattern.”

There was no answer to give that, not really. So John walked slowly until his knees hit the bed, then sat down next to Rodney.

Rodney hadn’t been wrong. John  _ had  _ been trying to distance himself. Granted, he hadn’t meant for it to be that calculated and obvious, but… He looked at his best friend, and felt some weight lift off of his chest. He wasn’t  _ scared  _ of liking Rodney. He just… He was unsure, but that was probably alright, wasn’t it? Rodney would understand if John didn’t want a house and 2.5 kids the next day. John had known he was bi since he was seventeen. He’d just never been in a proper relationship with a guy before, was all. He hadn’t known what to do.

“Emotional clockwork, huh?”

“You’re not going to go drink with Ronon?” Rodney said tentatively, not looking at John.

“Not the reaction you expected?” John asked, smiling a little.

His tone must’ve shown Rodney whatever he’d been looking for, because all of a sudden Rodney was relaxed. John could almost see his tense muscles loosen one by one as Rodney drooped onto the bed, resting his full weight on the wall.

“Want to defy expectations, do you, Colonel?” Rodney said playfully, putting a hand on John’s thigh.

John played along. “I’ve been known to disregard an order or two. Surprise people.”

“Well, you see, Colonel,” Rodney said with mock sincerity. “There’s this expectation of you. They say you would never -  _ ever -  _ kiss while you’re fingering me because, well, they don’t expect you to have that kind of coordination.”

John laughed, long and hard, unable to even fake a serious facial expression. “Yeah?” he asked, laughter in his voice still. “They expect me to just sit here and not fuck you into the mattress?”

Rodney shrugged. “Well, you know how they are.”

“Sure I do,” John agreed, and flipped over on top of Rodney, straddling him. “Now let’s see what we can do to prove them wrong.”


End file.
